


Daylight Saving Time

by scullyphile



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, MSR, daylight saving time, extra hour, little moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:56:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullyphile/pseuds/scullyphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How they spend their extra hour when time falls back over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daylight Saving Time

**1999 - 1:00 am, the first time.**

Scully sat on her couch, reading. There was a knock at the door. She recognized the pattern of knocks, although she didn’t need to in order to know it was Mulder. No one else would show up at this hour. She shuffled over to the door in her slippers and unlocked it.

“What is it, Mulder?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, what’s up?” she asked, waving him inside. She closed the door behind him and stood there as he walked over to her couch and plopped himself down on his stomach like a basset hound who’d had a long and tiring run around the neighborhood. 

“What are you doing with your extra hour?” he asked, his voice muffled by a throw pillow. 

“My extra hour?” she asked, walking over to the arm of the couch near his feet. His ankles were on the armrest, his feet dangling in the air. “Nothing special. I was just reading.”

He rolled over onto his back and put his hands behind his head.

“It’s a free hour,” he said, “like traveling in time. You have to do something special, Scully. Those are the rules. That’s why I came over. I couldn’t think of anything to do all by myself.”

“What do you want to do? I’m already in my pajamas,” she said, hinting that she didn’t want to deal with anything too out there.

“Let’s go to the roof,” he suggested, sitting bolt upright, suddenly full of energy.

**1:00 am, the second time**

They lay on a blanket on the roof, looking up at the stars. He didn’t need to look at her when he extended his hand in her direction. He knew it was already there, spanning half the distance between them. Her fingers were cold, and she rubbed her thumb against his.

–

**2000**

  
She went to his apartment and cocooned herself in his blankets on his couch. She cried until she slept.

–

**2004**

Who he was then, his identity, was a man who wore flannel and owned a pickup truck. He bought a six pack and drove them to a field in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska. He filled the bed of the pickup with blankets and sleeping bags. They drank and had sex under the stars. They slept until dawn.

–

**2009**

They watched a bad movie and fell asleep on the couch by 12:30. She woke to him shaking her shoulder. The room was lit by a bunch of tea lights. 

“What time is it?” she asked.

“1:00 am.”

“First or second?”

“We slept through the first. Lucky for us, it’s the night of do-overs. Can I have this dance?”

–

**2014 - 1:00 am, the first time.**

  
She sat alone in her apartment, wondering what Mulder was doing. Most years she could expect to have sex with Mulder in the next hour or two, but not this year. She was restless, unsure of what to do with herself. She wanted him back, badly, but refused to be the one to pick up the phone. She sat on her couch, trying to ignore the fact that it sat on the coffee table silently. 

She tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate. 

**1:00 am, the second time.**

She lay on the couch, too awake, remembering all of the romantic nights they’d shared, all of the things they’d done. She touched herself and imagined her hands were his.

–

**2015- 12:30 am**

  
She set up a blanket on the balcony of her apartment in anticipation of his arrival. She hadn’t spoken to him in about a week, but the repairs to their relationship had been going well. Her gut told her he would find his way there. She lit the candles and let the wine breathe next to two glasses. The sliding doors to her balcony were in plain view of the door to her apartment. When he came, he would know what she had in mind.

**1:30 am, the first time**

  
Was she wrong? Maybe she would spend another daylight saving time alone with only her own touch to keep her warm. She was about to give up, blow out the candles, and climb into the bath when she heard his knock.

“Ssscully.”

“Mulder,” she said, holding the door just wide enough for him to see the candles burning outside. “Are you drunk?”

“What are you implying?”

“That you had too much fun at your little conspiracy club tonight.”

“Wha–how did you know about that?”

“It’s on M.F. Luder’s Facebook page,” she said. 

“You’re Facebook stalking me now?”

“It’s not stalking. It’s investigating.”

“Stalker,” he whispered, leaning in close. Just then he seemed register the romantic set-up behind her for the first time.

“You expecting someone, Scully?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said. “What are you doing with your extra hour?”

“You mean who, Scully. Who am I doing with my extra hour.”


End file.
